Long time no see! Sorry for not updating- I was writing my pitiful attempt at a NaNoWriMo entry (plus coursework, as always) and it took up a large amount of my time. This chapter is extra long to make up for it :D (A lot of it is Amelia's POV :D) Enjoy and please leave feedback!
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"You won't forget me, will you?"
"Never."
-
"Twin, move! I want to see her!"
"Curly, you've already got the most space! You move!"
"Do be quiet, you'll wake the lady," Nibs whispered.
"I'm hungry!" Cubby bellowed, stamping his foot on the stool perched next to the wall that guarded the second room. A curly blonde head poked inside the tree just as Cubby shrieked and toppled from the stool, tumbling into the twins, who knocked over Slightly, who fell into Curly.
"Watch it, Cubby!"
A stirring sound drew silence, and Peter quickly dropped the breakfast on the table. Holding his usual red apple, he hovered over Amelia. She sighed and resumed soft breathing.
"The grand breakfast is served," Peter said, making towards the table again.
"Peter?"
Amelia sat up, and rubbed her head, which had a nasty bruise stretching from the left side of her head to her cheekbone. Peter grinned wolfishly, grabbed her hand and wrenched her from the bed before she could finish yawning.
"You can choose first…" Peter began, but his hand had crept to a bunch of what looked to be very small orange grapes- Sunberries, as he liked to call them. He put one, just one, in his mouth, and his eyes shone. While he was distracted, Amelia looked back at the awestruck boys, and took a small, clumsily carved bowl from the stack on the edge of the table. Cubby, who now had a red mark appearing on his forehead from the fall, suddenly hugged her around the middle.
"Huh?" Amelia exclaimed, taking a step back, pulling the child with her. Moments later, Nibs, the twins, and then the older boys followed suit- she was covered in embraces.
"Pretty lady-"
"Amelia," she corrected. The boys gazed at her with rapt expressions. Amelia slowly ate a couple of berries, then reached for an apple. She raised it to her mouth, then sighed and put it down again. "It's rude to stare," she berated, and the boys immediately looked down, ashamed. The thought that had been lingering in Peter's mind since he set eyes on her burst from his mouth.
"You shall be their mother!" he announced, jumping to the ground and putting his hands on his hips. A second later, however, he flew back up again with a mildly disgruntled expression; Amelia was taller than him. A girl was taller than him. The Lost Boys just hugged her harder and cheered, oblivious to the growing discomfort on her face. Peter, however, saw her expression; his happiness deflated at the same time as she firmly gave her verdict: "No. I won't be your mother."
Peter's stare tinged Amelia's face with a flush of red, and she tried to ignore the blue gaze. Undoing the frozen knot of arms around her she sat down on one of the stools, picking up the apple she had dropped with a trembling hand.
"Why, Amelia? Why not?" the Lost Boys begged.
"Please," Nibs touched her hand. A lady was always a mother. Amelia had to be their mother. A mother would give them another memory of a voice and the colour of that nursery they could never remember. Peter told stories that he collected from mothers all the time. If a mother could tell such stories, they wanted a mother.
"I am not ready to be a mother," Amelia sighed, then cheerfully smiled as she came to a resolution. "I will be a guardian instead."
Blank faces stared at her.
"What's a garnian?" Cubby asked, tugging at her sleeve.
Amelia's smile widened into a radiant grin.
"A guardian looks after people, but doesn't have to be a mother. I'll be your guardian."
The boys all looked at each other uncertainly.
"Amelia?" Peter spoke up, frowning. He wasn't sure where this conversation was going, but he had a feeling he wouldn't like it. "Don't you know where the Lost Boys come from? They are all babies that fell from their prams and were lost for seven days. Babies never remember anything," he added, in case she didn't understand. Finally it dawned on her. Amelia's grin slipped away.
"Isn't that all a mother does anyway?" Nibs asked tentatively. "Look after children?"
"Feed them?" the twins piped up.
"Tell stories?"
Amelia's mouth opened, closed, then opened again. Peter felt a faint unease, but pushed it off. He was being silly. Why should he get so upset on the subject of mothers?
"No, of course not! A mother does more than just that," Amelia said, with a faint hope that the boys would suddenly say 'oh, yes, I remember now.' She blinked a few times, then her face became shadowed with realisation at her own thought. "Don't… don't any of you remember having mothers of your own?"
Each and every one of the boys slowly shook their heads. Amelia's face fell.
"Everyone," barked Peter, feeling angry but not sure why. "Let her do as she wishes. Hurry up and eat! We have lots to do today." He was halfway through the door already.
The chairs wobbled and the joints of the furniture rattled with the explosive, excited cheering that followed, mindlessly happy that they had someone to look after them. So explosive that within seconds an angry orb of light zipped from behind a pair of pink curtains and began to drag Amelia outside by her hair.
"Tink, Tink!" Peter called, bemused, "what are you doing?"
The angry reply was drowned out by Amelia's infuriated yelling, followed by a swift thump and a groan. Everyone hurried outside. Peter couldn't help a titter. Amelia got up from the base of the tree, holding her head, and glared at where the fairy was jumping about, blowing raspberries. Just as Peter floated forward to either separate the girls or join in (both were ideas at that moment), Amelia grabbed the two-inch-tall creature and threw her. Tinkerbell's tiny scream became a whistle as she went straight through the upper window of the tree.
"Yeah!" Amelia cheered.
"She's inside the lantern, Peter!" came the muffled admiration of Curly. "Good aim!"
Peter raised his head defiantly, and went to see for himself. Extraordinarily, Tinkerbell was now trapped inside the glass lantern and was banging against it indignantly with tiny fists. As he came back out with the other boy, he landed on the ground next to Amelia, whose beatific grin made him feel oddly nostalgic.
"Follow me. And you, boys."
-
If I had ever thought I'd seen anything beautiful in London, it quickly faded into irrelevance with the enchanting ambience of Neverland. Nothing my mother had ever told me could ever have prepared me for it. All around was the sound of the water, whether the gentle drip of dew from the overtop leaves or the distant gush of the waterfall by the lagoon- Mermaid Lagoon! Every now and again, the tiniest flashes of light would have the boys whispering, "a fairy! A fairy!" as though they'd never seen one before. I savoured the warmth of the air and the feel of grass and moss beneath my feet, a carpet of natural beauty. Sometimes a flower would open as we passed, as if looking to see who was there, but quickly closed again once we had gone by and moved on to see the next wonder.
Exotic birds of various colours leapt between the branches of the canopy, calling sweetly to one another with crows and twitters and tweets that Peter mimicked perfectly, stating all the while how clever he was at being able to do so. I could sense all of the boys regularly looking at me, as though seeking approval. It was both flattering and unnerving; I found myself smiling back nevertheless.
"Come on, boys. Let's go see what Hook's up to," Peter said, rising up into a stream of light while the rest of us were blinded. The Lost Boys looked at one another, confused.
"We can't, Peter. Tink hasn't dusted us up yet," a pair of twins said in unison- from what I had been told, could only be Binky and Marmaduke. But could they really? Something felt wrong. The diary popped into my still aching head without warning. 'I can't write about them here, or there. The words don't go down. It's too vivid. I can only write about my feelings.'
Adventures too vivid to write down… passed down from Jane to mother to me… My chest began to ache.
"Then what did you follow me for?" Peter demanded to know.
"You told us to," a caramel-haired boy put in, squinting. "You said we should all follow you."
Peter made a face, then scratched his head.
"Well… can't be helped, I suppose…" He took a last fleeting glance over the canopy and came to rest on the forest floor. The Lost Boys sat down. I remained standing. Peter glanced at me, and after realising that I wasn't going to sit down, started speaking. "So… Slightly, what are we going to do?" Peter shot at a pale boy, who jumped in response.
"Oh." He looked at me, then at the same caramel-haired boy as before, who was nudging him and giving. Whispering. "Nibs says Amelia is covered in fairy dust."
Peter's feet left the ground. Upon inspecting my hair, he smiled exuberantly at me, showing a perfect set of white teeth.
"You're covered in it!" he exclaimed, touching my shoulder and showing me what looked like very fine golden powder.
"That means that we can go and play!" he took my hand. "Think-"
"Happy thoughts," I interrupted, a returning smile spreading across my face as my eyes met ones of blue. It took but a second for my body to begin rising, as though filled with hot air. The sensation was both exhilarant and unnerving, like feeling yourself freeze in the height of a jump, only to find yourself continuing upwards.
"Peter, what are we..." a voice that called up to us swiftly became inaudible. One hundred, two hundred feet… the Lost Boys gradually became specks, until even the clouds were below us. Upon landing on one of pale blue, my stomach finally managed a lurch. We had now officially defied the law of gravity. I felt a bubble inside, and consequently did a back flip onto the puffy layer of white on which Peter was standing. Due to the thick consistency of the cloud, I sank in a few inches, before standing as steadily as if it were the ground.
"It's kind of like putting on a really fluffy pair of slippers," I marvelled, pulling one foot out and sinking it back in again.
"Yes, of course!" Peter agreed. There was a pause where he pulled some of the cloud out and rolled it into a ball. "What's a slipper?"
I started to laugh.
"What's so funny?" He backed off of the cloud, offended.
"Oh, nothing. There's just so much you don't know," I wiped a tear from my eyes and smiled. We hopped across clouds for a while, and Peter showed the various parts of Neverland to me, which were laid out before my eyes like a vividly three-dimensional map.
"That's the Mermaid Lagoon and the waterfall," Peter said, pointing to the left side of the island, where a crystal-clear pool surrounded by pale pink rock glimmered like a jewel in the sun. I could see the foaming white of the crashing waterfall. It fed down from the huge mountain on the north side of the island, and a few thinner streams that looked like glittering lines fed down in various places into the forest. "The Indian camp slightly above ground level, over there," he motioned to the right side, where a faint line of smoke trickled up through a clearing. The camp was set below a mountain much larger than the one at the lagoon; it was so high that its summit was covered in snow. There was a jagged mountain range connecting the smaller and larger mountain, but it was blurred from distance and was hard to make out if anything might lie on it. Peter went through the other aspects of the island like a list, though once my eyes caught sight of the harsh, deep angles of the ship in the shadow of the mountain my eyes did not change focus. Peter noticed my stare and grew quiet. When I looked up again, the expression on his face shocked me.
"You must promise me, Amelia," he said abruptly, feeling my gaze. His eyes met mine, the calm azure gone. "Hook is mine to kill." The silence hung there, until he shook himself out of dark thoughts and smiled reverently again. His eyes still hadn't returned to being carelessly bright. He flew ahead, telling me about the great, winding catacombs of Treasure Cove, though not with the same enthusiasm as before. I was so wrapped up in the previous look on his face that I didn't see Peter draw his dagger in response to a shadow falling over us. I'd just moved to peer around when my view zoned out, and all I saw was bright azure. The terror of blindness gripped me first, but then shock overruled it- a voice spoke, not from beside me, but as if it were from inside my mind itself.
"Boy, why are you crying?"
"Ouch!" Peter exclaimed through the extraordinary blueness. As quickly as it had come, the sensation washed away like paint under a water spray just in time to see Peter raising a large dagger to a huge and beautiful white bird.
"No, Peter!" I shouted, at the same time noticing his other hand clamped to the dagger-holding arm. A small trickle of red leaked between his fingers. The dagger stopped mid-slash and I glimpsed a flash of surprise at the interruption. When the white bird opened its beak, I realised with a sickening apprehension what a mistake I'd made. Razor-sharp teeth protruded from its mouth. It glared at Peter with yellow, slit-like eyes.
"No!" I screamed, leaping towards the creature, grabbing its beak and forcing it shut. A strangled half-cry crackled in its throat. Somehow I ended up on its back. Immediately it dove downwards, streaking through the tallest branches. This wasn't like flying with Peter. The bird's enormous wings beat uncomfortably under my knees and air rushed into my lungs at a speed too fast to inhale, making me gag and my eyes water. Like a pebble dropped from a cliff, we hurtled towards the ground. I needed to jump off, but what would happen if I fell? Would I be able to summon happy thoughts while falling? How long would I have before I hit the ground? The bird, as though sensing my hesitation, sharply curved and tilted on an upward incline. With a shrieking, gurgling cackle, it looped and I felt my fingers slipping on its oily feathers. With a familiar, loving and somehow lost face as my driving force, I finally let go.
The pounding of my heart drowned out the shadows of sunshine and smiles in my head. I didn't want to die. A tear didn't have time to roll down my face; it left without so much as a comforting kiss on my cheek. Distance divided by speed equals time- how long until I hit the ground? Maybe there was only a hundred metres left- my eyes were shut, I couldn't tell-
"Ha-" My breath left me instantly on impact with what felt like two metal bars. I spluttered and gasped, struggling in spite of myself. The atmosphere had changed before I noticed that we were no longer outside. The air that was still causing my ears to ring was now warm and smoky, filled with the scent of leather and mysterious incense. I could hear the crackling of an open fire nearby. A deep, exotic voice said something, and I heard a stronger crackling sound -more wood- from which a further rush of comforting heat emanated. The haggard gasps began to dissipate, and my clammy, clenched fists slowly released, before being taken into the cool, papery enclosure of another. The person's form wavered after having my eyes squeezed so tightly shut, but soon I could see that it was an ancient, copper-skinned woman leaning over me with a kind smile. Her eyes and mouth were surrounded by deep, kind lines, while the long braid curled at her shoulders was almost completely silver.
Behind her I could see the flames of a large fire. The smoke that came from it went way up, into the top of the tent that ended in a point- a Native American teepee? It took a few more deep breaths before I remembered.
"Oh, of course" I murmured to myself, trying to stand and collapsing again on legs that had turned into rubber.
"Greetings, papoose," the woman said, in a voice both hoarse and wise, and tinged with that strange language that had been spoken before. "We have been expecting you." It was now that I noticed a congregation of at least fifty others, all seated around the fire. My eyes roamed the room, taking in all the strange and wonderful painted faces.
"Who are you?" I asked the ancient old woman, whose face crinkled up in a smile.
"I am Chief Tiger Lily of the Xenoi tribe. Welcome."
"Tiger Lily?" I repeated. "Tiger Lily?" Some of the closer spectators smirked. Tiger Lily also smiled- a smile that calmed my agitation.
"Perhaps, papoose, but that was long ago. Now I am older than all these here," she motioned widely to her people. "We have been waiting."
"Waiting?" I stared at her crinkled smile, before it clicked. "For me?"
The ancient chief's smile grew wider still. Tiger Lily stood, and turned to the gathering, speaking steadily in her own fluent tongue, before motioning to a young woman, perhaps a few years older than myself, to help me to stand.
"I don't understand," I said slowly, confused more than anything.
"Legend says the fair one will fall from monstrous white beast on this specific hour," Tiger Lily answered. "There is something we are meant to show you now."
"But…" I swallowed hard. "But… " I wasn't even sure what I wanted to say. I'd only just got to Neverland- and I wasn't even sure how I'd done that. How could I be supposed to be here? Tiger Lily, glanced at me, and in a strange light from the fire she looked like the image in my imagination of the Indian Princess Tiger Lily, daughter of the chief. A question arose in my mind, but my mouth would not open.
Carefully, she took a deep green powder from a pouch hanging around her neck and threw it onto the fire, chanting something foreign and making slow, measured movements with her hands.
"This is your destiny."
I couldn't look away.
Around her wrinkled limbs formed a sphere; dark blue and lightening, until it became as bright as the sky on a summer's day. Tendrils began to come off it, then slowly it started to break into two clearly defined pieces. The pieces turned black and became smoky around the edges, and for a moment I cringed away from the wispy, ghostly tendrils as they reached for me. The smoke solidified suddenly, sucking in to form two smooth spheres that began to glow. The light strengthened into a blinding glare around which the remaining black wisps scratched and faded; just as it became too bright to look at, the spheres joined again and glowed a beautiful gold, which rose like the sun and vanished through the top of the teepee. As the light faded, one woman stood and fainted, and had to be carried out by the man sitting adjacent to her.
"That is all, papoose," said Tiger Lily. She looked ever so weak all of a sudden, as though the imagery had sapped all of her energy. "Its message is for you to solve."
I couldn't speak, and Tiger Lily settled for patting my hand before standing and shuffling slowly towards the opposite side of the tent.
"…. Wait," I finally managed. "How do you know that it was me meant to be here?"
Another crinkled smile.
"We learn much from observing nature. 'Fair one' does not only mean your hair, papoose," Tiger Lily said patiently. "How many of your kind do you see on this island? You have a gift, child. All you need to do is find it."
I could only stare at her, mouth open.
"If you need anything else, please don't hesitate to come see us again," Tiger Lily said in a voice that was barely more than a whisper. Another young woman came to help support her, and I was almost certain she had a tear in her eye. At that very moment Peter's voice came into hearing distance. I gave my gratitude before bowing out of the tent and going to the edge of the forest. To my utter surprise, the sun was already beginning to set. Had Peter and I really been out for so long? My stomach grumbled loudly. I took one more step and found myself face to face with the blonde-haired boy.
"Amelia!" Peter exclaimed, his anxious face breaking into a relieved smile as he dropped to the ground. "I was calling for you. Didn't you hear me?"
I shook my head apologetically, explaining everything except the incident with the fire.
"Well, that's an adventure," Peter said, seemingly baffled by my luck. "You'll have to tell the boys all about that when we get back."
"Sure. I can do that," I nodded. Peter then seemed to realise he was walking and kicked off into the air, pulling me with him.
"Next time, don't tell me what to do," he asserted, giving me a stern look. I felt a flash of guilt and looked away.
"I won't again unless you're about to do something very, very stupid," I reasoned.
"Hey!" he complained, but I pulled away, smiling and following the distant clamour that was the Lost Boys. I picked up speed and flying higher, higher. Then, from across the bay, I heard a loud and definitely grown-up voice, furiously bellowing: "Peter Pan!"
The shock of it made me lose concentration. Before I could fall into the canopy, Peter half caught me and half pushed me. We careered through the trees, crashing into a bed of leaves, rolling once, twice, to find his elbow digging into my chest. "Ouch, Peter, get off!" I groaned, wincing. He was looking at me strangely. Raising a finger to his mouth, he listened intently. His mouth widened into a mischievous grin and his eyes twinkled. Unless I was much mistaken, they contained a hint of green. I felt my face begin to burn. "Peter, get off," I repeated, with less conviction than before.
He did so, but only because he was rolling about laughing. "How funny it would be to see his face!" he managed, before collapsing into fits again.
"Who?" I enquired, soon chuckling myself. His laugh was as infectious as it was merry, like music. Such a cheerful laugh could warm a grumpy classroom any day.
"Hook. I'll explain when we get back to the home-tree," Peter finally spoke, his eyes that lovely, light blue again. He might have said that, but I knew that it was not his personality to be consistent. Nevertheless, I let him take my hand and pull me up. "Come on, let's go home and have dinner."
And we did exactly that.
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I guess you could consider this a mixed-media piece of novel, animation and live-action movie. Hopefully it does the novel justice in particular, though -_-
I'm a big fan of using metaphors, so be sure to review and maybe you'll understand… wait, what? : o
~chellybaby xo
P.s. Papoose = child, for reference. :)